Duck, Fakir!
by fakiagirl
Summary: FakirDuck. A few letters can change a story into something unexpected, especially when it's no longer being controlled by the dead insane guy you thought was in charge of everything, he instead having found another unexpected heir . . .  Spoilers
1. Chapter 1

_Duck, Fakir! _

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own _Princess Tutu _or any of its characters.

_**Author's Note: **_I am so, sooooo sorry, but I _have_ to call Ahiru "Duck!" I know this bugs you guys to death, but this whole story was created _because _she's called Duck! Please forgive me! I promise that in the next _Princess Tutu _story I write, her name _will _be Ahiru (provided I remember and it doesn't cause extreme problems for some unknown reason). I hope it isn't too annoying!

And thanks to Shadow Neko Yumi for all her help. :)

- - -

_Duck, Fakir!_

Chapter 1

- - -

Once upon a time, there was a duck floating peacefully on a pond. Not a very uncommon occurrence, it's true, but obviously _this _duck on _this _pond was special. _This _duck was in love with a human.

"_Oh, no, that won't do. If you start a story off with 'Once upon a time,' your readers might expect you to end it with 'and they lived happily ever after'! Oh, no, that just won't do! Because a tragedy is _so_ much more interesting! And this story is just crying out for a tragic ending. A duck in love with a human? How very tragic! _

"_No matter; I always have room for a tragic duck in one of my stories. And after my last tragedy was ruined by one -! Well, she should still get the tragic ending she deserves, along with that pathetic excuse for a knight. But, I wonder if I am in someone else's story? Two storytellers to tell one story! What a fascinating idea! But, you know, I can't control my stories anymore, so perhaps we are going to need a third one. My, my, little duck, you _are _popular! _

"_Now, where should this story start? With the duck again, I suppose. Now, now, in love with a human _again_? What have you gotten yourself into this time, little duck?" _

- - - - - - - -

Duck floated along on her pond, minding her own business. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Fakir had resumed ballet again, and he just didn't have time to sit by her pond as often as he used to. She didn't mind terribly, though, because she knew that he was happy when he danced, and she was only sad that she couldn't dance with him as well.

Anyway, she wasn't doing anything to attract the attention of, say, a dead insane maniacal madman who was (as Fakir put it) "a sadistic old fossil" who "played with other's fates for a lark." Unfortunately for her, however, she had defied her fate, and was therefore entitled to "glory" (which she hadn't gotten) and not "happiness" (which she hadn't gotten either, so that was okay), and a certain man was going to make sure she never got that happiness. Well, he was certainly going to have fun trying, at any rate.

So Ahiru wasn't really expecting to have a necklace dropped on her from out of nowhere. And she wasn't expecting it to land perfectly around her neck. Or what happened next.

There was a tinkle and then a splash, and Duck suddenly found herself standing on the bottom of the pond. "That's weird. Where did that come from?" said Duck. Wait – _said_?! "Quack!" cried the duck who was currently a girl. There was another tinkle, then a plop. _Phew, a duck again, _was all she had time to think before there was another tinkle, and then a splash.

"Quack!" Tinkle, plop. Tinkle, splash. "Qua -" This time Duck clamped a hand (!!!) over her mouth.

_Okay, I should get out of the water before something else happens. _Once safely on the shore among the reeds, she sat down to think about this new predicament. She didn't get very far, though, before she heard the strangely familiar sound of a clock . . .

"_Ah, the duck who is a girl. How interesting, how very interesting!" _

"Quack!" cried Duck. Tinkle, thump.

"_It's been a while, hasn't it? You see, I wouldn't even be here, but all the other stories I found where just too boring." _

"Quack! Ack! Quaaaack!" (Mr. Drosselmeyer! No! Go away!) cried Duck, flapping her wings as threateningly as she could manage.

"_So you remember me, little duck! I am so flattered. But there's no need to get all excited. Perhaps you should take another dip in the water, though – it's a bit disconcerting to be talking to a duck, and it takes too much concentration!" _

Duck waddled over to the pond and dove into it, surfacing after a moment. Tinkle, splash. "Is this another one of your stories? Are you trying to control Kinkan town again? But we broke your writing machine!"

"_It's true," _said the old man mournfully. _"But, you know, even if _I_ may not be able to write stories anymore – my hands keep falling off -" _he muttered, frowning, _"family trees really _are _useful! And the power to control stories isn't always immediately obvious, you know!" _

"Wait -" said Duck, sitting down in the water, "You mean there is someone besides you and Fakir who can write stories that come true?"

Drosselmeyer didn't say another word, and the ominous ticking of a clock began to grow quieter.

"Mr. Drosselmeyer!" cried Duck, but it was too late. The last sounds of his maniacal laughter faded into silence, and the duck who was a girl sat alone in her pond.

- - - - - - - -

"_Oh, the poor, poor duck!" _cried Drosselmeyer gleefully from the safety of his . . . uh . . . weird-dimension-thingy-inside-a-clock.

"Did you do something to Duck, zura?" asked a small girl from beside Drosselmeyer's rocking chair. She appeared to be about four to six years old, and she had pale skin that looked as though it were made of wood, blue eyes, and short, pale green hair. She had on a strange little outfit with rather poofy pants, a little drum was strapped around her waist, and she held a drumstick in each hand. "Are you writing another story about her, zura?"

"_Ah, Uzura. No, I am done writing stories. But I have no problem telling them to anyone willing to write them down!" _

"_Did-you-do-something-to-Duck, _zura?" asked Uzura again, frowning, her small hands gripping her drumsticks over her small drum threateningly.

"_Now, now, Uzura, are you getting attached to something besides your strings? Oh, that's right – you are the puppet with feelings who doesn't _have_ any strings!" _Drosselmeyer chuckled, and then sighed. _"It's such a pity that Edle had to go and burn herself up like that. Well, that's what happens when you don't know your place, zura! Ah, Uzura, now I am even talking like you!" _

Uzura glared at him, and began to beat her drums loudly. "What about Duck, zuuuuura!"

"_Come now, Uzura! No, no, I didn't do anything to Duck. Not really, anyway. But I think it is time I tried my hand at a different kind of writing. Well, not _my_ hand, actually -" _Drosselmeyer's right hand fell off, and he hurriedly caught it. _"But Uzura, perhaps you should make yourself useful. Get out some parchment and one of those envelopes, will you?" _

- - - - - - - -

Duck was wondering what to do. "Should I go look for Fakir? I mean, I can't really go find him like this, but should I turn back into a duck so I can find him? Then . . . I don't know! What will he think? Will he mind me being a girl again? Will anyone else even remember me?"

"Is that Duck, zura?" someone called nearby.

"What? _Uzura_?" asked Duck, looking around wildly.

A small girl came through the reeds at the edge of the pond. "I can talk to you, zura! You're a girl again, zura!"

"Uzura!" Duck hugged the little girl, and realized that she was crying. "Oh, Uzura, are you okay?"

"I'm just so happy to see you, zura!" exclaimed the girl happily. "Here are some clothes, since you lost your duck tail again, zura!" She handed Duck a pile of clothing, which she hurriedly put on. "And this too, zura!" Uzura held out and envelope with "Duck" written on the front.

"What? A letter? From whom?"

"I'm not supposed to say, zura," said Uzura seriously. "You should open it, zura!"

"Yeah, I guess I should!" Duck giggled nervously and opened it.

_Dearest Darling Duck, _(it said)

_I know you must think I am a truly pathetic for not having confessed my feelings for you sooner. Perhaps you think I am only a worthless writer of stories, but I can write other things as well! Indeed, every time I write a single pitiful word on a truly tattered piece of paper, I can only ever see your pathetically beautiful, wonderfully woeful, fantastic face. Please forgive me for not having recognized you for what you are! Take this as an arrow from Cupid's bow, so that you may return this letter and my feelings with it! _

(There was then a poem which was truly the worst attempt at a love poem Duck would have ever read if she had ever read one before. The rest of the letter continued on the same theme, taking up a full two and a half pages of parchment, and it was filled with words which Duck was pretty sure were all made up, but since she wasn't even sure that she had ever actually learned how to read, she might just have not known any better. Although, she was actually pretty sure she _had _learned how to read, but she hadn't read anything in a while.)

_I may not seem it, but I am really a shy person. I am too cowardly and pathetic to even deliver this letter to you in person, but I feel that I must confess my feelings to you in person. I will leave you a note with when and where you should meet me! _

_Please know for now that, to me, you are not a smelly duck, but a gracefully odorless swan! _

_Sincerely, _

_(strike)Drosse(end strike)__ Fakir_

Duck turned a deep shade of scarlet. Her wild imagination immediately summoned up an image of Fakir's smiling face, saying, _"I care deeply for you, Duck." _Clutching the letter tightly to her chest, Duck 'squeeeee'd and ran in a little circle. She paused again, summoning up another day dream. _"I love you, Duck." _Squeeee, run in a circle.

"Did you like it, zura?" asked Uzura, looking a bit concerned for Duck's sanity.

"Yes!" cried Duck, but then she frowned. "There's just this bit here, just before _he _(sigh) signed his name (squeee) . . . '_(strike)Drosse(end strike)_'. What was he going to write?" Picking up a dictionary (don't ask _me _where it came from!) she flipped through the pages. "Dri . . . dro . . . dross! Right . . . 'dross. n. 1. Waste or impure matter; refuse. 2. The scum that forms on the surface of molten metal when it oxidizes.' " Duck frowned a bit at that. "Well, uh . . ." Then her face brightened. "He is so creative that maybe he was going to make up a word just for me!" It wasn't the best explanation, but it was the best she could come up with. She sighed. "I wonder what Fakir is doing right now . . ."

- - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Fakir was running for his life.

"Get back here!" screamed the person chasing him, and he ducked just in time as a ballet shoe narrowly missed his left ear.

"What did I do, again?" he called over his shoulder, rounding a corner as the previous ballet shoe's partner flew past him, hitting the wall instead with a dangerously loud 'thunk.' He narrowly avoided a group of girls from the ballet division, who all gave him rather strange looks.

"What did you _do_?!" shrieked the girl. "How dare you ask me that! After writing me that letter with all those horrible insults! Saying I was too heavy to lift during a _pas de deux -_"

A shower of bobby pins rained down on him. _Bobby pins - she must be almost out of things to throw by now, _thought Fakir hopefully, though he didn't dare stop running. "But I have never danced a _pas de deux_ with you! I don't even know your name! So why would I -"

"That's what _I _want to know!" she cried, and something hit him in the back.

Fakir risked a glance back. The girl, whose name he honestly didn't know and whom he wasn't even sure he ever met before, was now armed with a pointe shoe. _At least with the last one it hit me at an angle. If that hard bit on the end had – _

"Look! Duck, Fakir!" one of his devote fangirls cried.

"What? Where?" asked Fakir, looking around wildly for the duck he was now so attached to.

Something hit Fakir in the back of his right knee, and he fell, felling as though a lead weight had just been thrown at him. Or maybe a hammer. _Oh. _"LOOK, I DIDN'T WRITE THE STUPID LETTER, OKAY?" shouted Fakir, finally at the end of his patience, and now with a damaged pride at being felled by a pointe shoe. His leg really hurt, too.

The girl burst into tears and ran off, surrounded by concerned friends who all glared at Fakir in a way that would probably caused him to die in some horrible manner if he hadn't returned it with the same amount of force.

Fakir limped outside, muttering to himself. "A knight lamed by a pointe shoe? Ha! If she had been some raven or something she would be long gone!" He ignored the part of his brain that was trying to remind him that he hadn't held a sword since he finished _The Price and the Raven_.

"Look! Duck, Fakir!"

"Not _again_!" groaned Fakir, and he threw himself to the ground, hands covering his neck in the there-is-going-to-be-an-earthquake position, waiting for the inevitable.

It never came.

"Uh, Fakir?"

"Is she still here? Is she gone?" asked Fakir urgently.

"Well, I don't know who you're talking about, but I don't see anyone else, so -"

"She's gone, then," said Fakir, standing and dusting himself off. Then he caught sight of the person in front of him. "Du – Du – You're a – a -" he stuttered in a most un-Fakir-like way.

"Yeah, I know. Funny, huh? Well, see, this necklace fell from the sky, and then I kept turning into a girl and then a duck again, and then Drosselmeyer talked to me, and then Uzura brought me some clothes -"

Fakir's surprised expression was wiped off his face. "Wait, did you say Drosselmeyer? He's back?"

"Well, uh . . . sort of." Duck met his eyes and blushed.

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?"

"Well, see, he can't write stories anymore, and he can't control Kinkan town anymore because we destroyed that machine of his, but, well, uh . . ."

"Well, what?"

"Uh, he kind of said something about . . ."

"Duck, I can't hear you."

"Something about family trees. And the power to write stories that come true not always being obvious right away. And stuff."

"_What?!_" cried Fakir.

Duck frowned. "That was it, though. I mean, he didn't really say anything about who it might be."

Fakir tried to think clearly. "So . . . how come you're a girl if Drosselmeyer wasn't the one writing the story?"

"I'm not really sure. This pendant" She fingered the blue stone hanging from her neck, "just dropped out of nowhere. Drosselmeyer kind of showed up soon after that."

"He . . . didn't hurt you or anything, did he?" asked Fakir, looking concerned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," said Duck, and Fakir looked relieved. Then he sighed.

"Well, we should figure out who _is _controlling your story in case something like last time happens," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I doubt it's Autor, but we can check. Let's make a visit to the library."

"Okay!" said Duck, and obediently followed him to said location.

- - - - - - - - (End Chapter One) - - - - - - - -

**_Author's Note: _**Hehe. This was originally a one-shot; now I think it's a three-parter. I came up with this idea with the help of Shadow Neko Yumi a loooooooooooong time ago, but I kept having serious writer's block. -.-' I decided to post Chapter One, though, so that's something.


	2. Chapter 2

_Duck, Fakir! _

**Disclaimer: **I don't know if you know this, but I don't own _Princess Tutu. _It is copyrighted by Ikuko Itoh.

_**Author's Note: **_The second chapter. Yup. And I really have to give Shadow Neko Yumi a bunch cookies for all her help on this one. _  
_

- - -

Chapter 2

- - -

The library was not difficult to find, especially if you were Fakir and had spent nearly all of your extra time there for a good part of your life. And Autor was guaranteed to be there, so he was not difficult to find either, especially if Uzura had decided to follow you around everywhere.

"Zuuuuraa!" called Uzura, beating her drum loudly.

"Qua-!" cried Duck, Fakir covering her mouth just in time.

"QUIET!"

"Hello, Autor," said Fakir. Duck nodded, and Fakir let go of her mouth.

"Ah." Autor's glasses glinted slightly in the dim light. "What do you want?"

"I don't suppose you've seen . . . . Drosselmeyer lately, have you?"

"What? Of course not! He's not . . ." His voice dropped to a quiet whisper and an expression of concern crossed his face. " . . . back, is he?"

"Apparently he is," said Fakir quietly. "And another one of his heirs has appeared."

Autor blanched. "You mean . . .?"

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence while they thought this over.

"Um," said Duck.

The two boys looked at her. "What is it?"

"Well, uh, there's, um . . ."

"Yes, Duck?"

She pointed wordlessly out the window. Fakir and Autor ran over to it and gazed outside. At first they saw nothing, but then Fakir noticed a strange shape that appeared to be trying to eat some flowers by a fountain. And there was something on its back . . .

"Oh, no."

"What is it?" asked Autor, a little bewildered.

"Femio," was all Fakir said before he and Duck raced out the door.

"Huh?" asked Autor who, now looking thoroughly confused, followed the two outside.

"Oh, what if there's a stampede like last time?" asked Duck worriedly. "And all the bulls trample everyone? And how he thinks he's a prince!" Duck shuddered slightly at how Femio kept giving _roses _to everyone . . .

"If he even _thinks _of calling all those bulls to him I will personally make sure it doesn't ever happen again!" said Fakir determinedly. The whole town had spent a long time cleaning up last time.

There was indeed a bull eating the flowers surrounding the fountain, but whatever had been on its back was gone. "I don't see what -" began Autor.

"Oh, how woeful this is!" cried the fountain. Autor jumped backwards, Fakir glowered, and Duck _Quack!-_ed herself into a duck. "My existence brings only pain!" continued the fountain. "I must be punished!"

"FEM - !" began Fakir.

"A, sir, do you wish to speak to _me_?" inquired the young man who stepped out from behind the fountain. Those brown eyes . . . that brown hair done up in ringlets . . . that _rose_ he was holding . . . Duck quacked in fear and hid behind Fakir.

At the sight of her, Femio's eyes lit up. "Oh, duck with the wonderous eyes," he began.

"Don't wonderous-eye Duck, you who claims himself to be a prince falsely!" snarled Fakir, feeling quite protective of her at the moment.

"But I _am _a prince!" exclaimed Femio. "Everyone loves me, and though I cannot return their love as of yet, soon I will be strong enough to do so!"

Fakir opened his mouth, but then decided to close it again. _That statement has a rather ominous tone to it . . . _

"I demand -" began Autor, but Fakir elbowed him.

"_Let him finish!_" he hissed.

Autor glared at him, and then adjusted his glasses. "_I will not have the silence of my library disturbed by your petty squabbles with this . . . this . . . matador!_"

"_It's not _your _library, you know! And this is not a petty squabble!_"

"You see," continued Femio, clearly oblivious to everything else going on around him, "_I, _and no one else, will be so selfless as to give the proper ending to the story that was never finished properly!"

Fakir froze. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice deathly quiet and dripping all sorts of cold pointy objects, "Would you mind repeating that?"

Femio struck an even more dramatic pose, feeling bolder now that he had a real audience. "I," he said slowly for dramatic effect, "am going to write a story about a duck and a pathetic knight who never received the unhappy ending they deserve!"

"You are _WHAT_?!"

"Please, Fakir," sighed Autor. "The library -"

"This is mine and Duck's _lives _we are talking about! Who cares about the library?!"

"Well, obviously all the _people _reading all the _books _in it might!"

"Books," muttered Fakir. "Books. Femio, where are you keeping this book that you're writing?"

"Hahahahohohohu!" laughed Femio, standing on one foot and wiggling his fingertips from side to side (remember episode 17?). "I can't tell yooou!"

"Well, let me change your mind about that," said Fakir, reaching for a sword he didn't have with him.

"Oh, goodness," said Femio. "I must be going! It is time for . . . that!" he cried, and jumped on the back of his bull, which ran off, snorting, its face still stuffed full of flowers. ("My flowers!" cried Freya, half-way across town.)

"NO!" cried Fakir. "We do _not _need another stampede of bulls in this town!"

Autor looked up at that. "Ah! No! Not past the library!" But Femio was gone. Duck hopped into the fountain and pulled on her clothes while Fakir dragged Autor over to the safety of the library. Then suddenly he stopped.

Duck ran into him and nearly fell over. "Fakir – What - ?"

"Duck, do you realize what this means?" he said slowly.

"That we may get trampled?"

"That I am related to . . . _Femio_." Fakir shuddered.

Autor paused mid-step as well. "You know, I'm so distantly related to Drosselmeyer, it's probably only by marriage, anyway."

"Come _on_!" cried Duck as a faint rumbling in the distance could be heard. So they came.

- - - - - - - - (End Chapter Two) - - - - - - - -

**_Author's Note: _**Hehe. How many of you saw that coming? Shadow Neko Yumi decided that Femio had to be Drosselmeyer's heir. It is totally perfect and I am soooooooo glad I have her to figure out these things for me:D (heart) So, you can't give me credit for that. In fact, she told me that she had to use some serious willpower to not review my story with a comment about it and spoil the whole thing. So, yeah. Next chapter coming up!


	3. Chapter 3

_Duck, Fakir!_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Princess Tutu_. _  
_

_**Author's Note: **_Chapter three . . . (in case you couldn't figure it out). _  
_

_- - - _

Chapter 3

- - -

"_Ah, this is going perfectly! Now we just need all our characters to meet somewhere . . . perhaps under a full moon at a lake's edge! Too bad I can't affect the moon's cycles without disrupting the time-space continuum; it would make things so much easier! Ah, well, we will just have to make do with a three-quarters moon – or are we at a five-thirteenths? And the pond will have to do, I suppose. But the stage is not half as important as that which is staged upon it! Pathetic excuse for a knight, you caused Duck to do what she did, and you both shall pay for it; your demise draws near! MWAHAHA!" _

- - - - - - - -

A duck floated peacefully along on her pond, minding her own business. Oops, wait, wrong duck.

Duck paced the perimeter of the room (or rather, ran in circles) as she waited for Fakir to come home. He had gone to ballet, and they had both agreed that as long as Femio was controlling this story, perhaps it would be better if Duck did not get within about 40 feet/meters/paces (whatever unit of measurement you would prefer) and it was better to not take any chances. So here Duck was.

"So I'm in a story again? This seems to happen to me a lot." She sighed. "I wonder what Mr. Drosselmeyer has planned for Fakir and me now."

_- - - - - - - - _

"_Not to worry, little duck! Something quite interesting, as this _is _an interesting story!" _

_- - - - - - - - _

Just then, Duck heard voices (outside, not in her head. She had had enough of talking to dead people and puppets and did not feel like going insane as well). "Fakir!" she cried, and ran to open the door. She was not quite prepared for what awaited her. But then again, who can ever be prepared to see an angry mob of girls chasing someone?

Duck stared. She couldn't help it. The crowd of girls did indeed seem to be rather angry – and they all seemed to be trying to scream at Fakir at once.

"DUCK!" cried Fakir as he hurtled down the path to his house. "Stop standing in the doorway and _move _so I can get in!"

"Wha -"

"MOVE!"

She moved.

"_Thank _you!" and he rushed past her, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Duck stared at him and found herself blushing. What a random time to remember that letter . . . "So, um, why are they all so angry?" she asked innocently (to distract her train of thought from morphing into something else).

Fakir looked like he was going to explode. "I have NO idea, but I bet it's Femio's fault, and when I find him . . . !"

"Erm, of course," muttered Duck absentmindedly as she locked the door and then tried to pull Fakir away from it.

"I can stand this no longer! Duck, we are going to go find either Drosselmeyer or Femio and find out what the heck is going on!" he cried, undoing the lock and throwing the door open.

"Ack!" cried Duck.

"!!!!" agreed Fakir, and hurriedly closed it again. "Okay, so now we can't go outside. Great. What now?"

"Yeah," said Duck dejectedly.

"Fakir is wrong, zura!" cried a voice from somewhere. Duck quacked into duck-form. "Here is a letter for you, zura!" Uzura appeared and handed an envelope to the bewildered knight.

"Uzura? You're back?"

"You didn't notice me, zura?" she asked, looking up into Fakir's eyes. "I've been following the duck-who-has-no-duck-tail and you, zura! Are you lovey-dovey with her yet, zura?"

Fakir blushed a deep red. "I-I-we-we- Uzura! What do you mean, _yet_?!"

"What, zura?" Uzura asked innocently. She produced a pitcher of water out of nowhere and poured it over Duck before either of them had time to register what was happening.

"Blekjhsklfhd!!!" cried Fakir, quickly turning to face the nearest wall.

"Zura, if you're lovey-dovey with Duck it shouldn't matter if- "

The newly human-fied and now-clothed Duck clamped a hand over Uzura's mouth. "Hehehe! OhUzurathat'ssonicewho'stheletterfrom?"

Fakir turned back around, flipping the letter over in his hand. "Hmm . . . it just says "Fakir" on the front." He quickly ripped it open and unfolded the letter inside. "Dear Fakir," he began in a mumble, but failed to continue. Instead, he moved through the 5 stages of whatthehellisthis?!; 1) Disbelief. 2) Shock. 3) Loss of ability to think. 4) Mild embarrassment. 5) Mortification.

"Wha- I- ungh- " he spluttered, having suddenly turned such a new-and-never-before-seen shade of red that Duck was concerned for his life.

"Erm-"

"NO!" he yelled, refusing to look at her and ripping the letter up into the tiniest pieces he could manage. He stood there, breathing heavily as if he had just ran a long distance, and for a long moment while Duck and Uzura stared at him, wide-eyed.

Uzura spoke first. "You didn't like it, zura?"

"Ahh!" Fakir jumped backwards, hitting his head on the wall behind him.

She continued looking at him for a moment, then changed the focus of her attention to Duck. "It was from Femio, zura," she said in a conversational tone.

"It was WHAT?!" shrieked Fakir. He did a funny little dance, looking as though he _really _needed to cut something up.

Duck and Uzura backed away slowly.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

Several things happened at once.

"Who's that, zura?"

"I'm gonna kill whoever it is!"

"Don't open it!"

And then, with a rush of rose petals, two slips of paper floated into the house.

Fakir hurriedly slammed the door shut, the rabid fan-girls still being girls and just as rabid and just as big of Fakir-obsessed fans . . . even though now they appeared to want to kill him (?!). Duck had already picked up both pieces of paper.

"Hmm. They both say, 'Meet me at the pond at midnight,' but this one is signed by you, and this one is signed by me." There was a moment of silence. "I never wrote a note saying that. And that's not my handwriting. Is it yours, Fakir?"

Fakir peered at the piece of paper and made a strange choking sound. He suddenly looked Duck straight in the eyes, towering over her by no little amount. "Are you _absolutely positive _that this is not your handwriting?"

"Y-yes, I'm sure. Fakir-"

He was shrugging on his cloak, despite the fact that it was rather warm outside. "Midnight? Ha! We are going to the pond this minute, and I'm going to show that Femio exactly who he is messing with!" Fakir disappeared, reappearing a moment later with his sword after much clattering coming from the broom closet. "Okay, Duck, let's go!" He stopped short at the door.

Silence.

"Uh, let's go out the back way."

"There's a back way?"

"There is now!" he said grimly, taking Duck's hand and leading her to the back of the house. Forcing open a window, he stuck his head out. "All clear." He then jumped out and helped Duck through before running full tilt towards the pond.

- - - - - - - - (End Chapter Three) - - - - - - - -

**_Author's Note: _** Haha! . . . ha. This is the end of chapter three. As you may be able to tell, this is not the end of the story. I _think _there's only going to be one more chapter. Chapter four of my oneshot. -.-' I just can't write short stories. At all. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4: The Lost Chapter

**Author's note: **Lololololololololol. It's been over three years, and here we are again. I said I would finish it, and I have. OTL'''''' If you're still subscribed to this, PLEASE FORGIVE ME. T.T I've no doubt that you will be disappointed. =.= /fail

Chapter 4 - The Lost Chapter

Fakir, Duck, and Uzura burst through the reeds surrounding the pond. Fakir already had his sword drawn and was looking around wildly, muttering something under his breath about bulls and stabbing. Uzura was looking at their surroundings curiously from behind Duck's legs. Duck was looking at the pond.

Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The reeds waved gently in the wind, the water lapped slightly against the shore, rose petals drifted across its surface. . . .

"Fakir!" squeaked Duck. "Rose . . ."

"Ohoho!" said a voice from the opposite bank, and Femio stepped out from behind a tree. "What have we here?" He brushed his hand through his hair dramatically.

"You!" cried Fakir, pointing his sword menacingly at the figure.

"Me!" cried Femio, raising his hands in the air. "I have tried to correct my wrongs and distract you from my beauty, and yet you still are drawn to me! Did my letters not deceive you?" He covered his face with one hand and looked away. "Did you see through my artfully-constructed prose and recognize my beautiful handwriting? Again I have failed to make others love someone besides me! Pour judge–"

"Femio!" cried Duck. "Stop! No bulls!"

"Oh?" said Femio, looking at her mournfully. "But I deserve judgement! Even you" – here he produced a rose and held it against his chest – "have fallen for me, not for the knight who stands besides you, my cousin –"

"N-n-not your cousin!" said Fakir, his arm shaking with anger. He was beet red. Femio ignored him.

"– who so gallantly rescued you in the past. He is more deserving of you than I – I, who steal all the world's love!" He threw the rose into the pond and hugged himself in anguish.

"You think Duck and Fakir should be lovey-dovey too, zura?" asked Uzura curiously. She had come out from behind Duck's legs.

"Ah!" cried Femio, his eyes lighting up. He produced another rose and knelt down, offering it to Uzura even though he was still on the opposite bank. "And who, beautiful maiden with the unblinking blue eyes, might you be?"

"I'm Uzura, zuuuura!" She produced her drumsticks and banged proudly on her drum.

"Uzura, stop it!" Fakir hissed at her. "And you!" He turned his attention back to Femio. "You wrote that letter? You insulted both myself and Duck!" There was a crazed look in his eyes that reminded Duck uncomfortably of Drosselmeyer, though now that she thought about it, Femio acted much more like Drosselmeyer than Fakir ever had. . . . "How could you believe that Duck would confess her love to me in such a manner?"

"I know!" cried Femio. "This is unforgivable. Pour judgement upon –"

"No!" cried Duck.

Fakir leaped away into the reeds, careening around the edge of the pond.

"– this sinner! Aieeee!" Femio had just spotted Fakir racing towards him, waving his sword, and he began running in the opposite direction.

_And so the story stalls! Femio, you make a terrible prince. Uzura, take over. This is becoming ridiculous. As this rate the story will never end, and we've had enough of that._

Uzura looked up into the sky. "No, zura. You're a mean old man, zura. Fakir and Duck should be together, zuuura!" She banged angrily on her drum and wouldn't stop, even though Duck tugged at her arm.

"Uzura, please," said Duck, looking fearfully around at Fakir, who was gaining on Femio. Just then, a bull intercepted them and ran over Femio. It snorted a little, looked back at the flattened Femio, walked over to some grass, and began to graze. Fakir took the opportunity to poke the tip of his sword into Femio's back.

"Now," he growled, "tell me where the book is that you've been writing in!"

"It's . . . there!" he gasped out dramatically, pointing at Uzura, and fainted.

Fakir looked at Uzura. Duck looked at Uzura. Uzura stopped banging on her drum and looked at the pond, and then at Duck. She smiled. "I've been helping Femio write the letters, zura, so he let me keep them!" She pulled a packet of envelopes out of her rather poofy pants and handed them to Duck.

"Wh-wh-what?" said Fakir, who was still standing over Femio, dumbfounded. He turned white, then red again. "The story was the letters?"

"Except for the first one Duck got, zura. That was just the mean old man being mean."

"But – but – which letters? Not the letters to the girls at school, too?"

Duck looked at Fakir, frowning. "What letters to the girls at school?"

"That was my idea, zura! To make everyone angry at Fakir except Duck!"

"But, none of that was true. I had never danced with any of those girls before!"

"It will be, zura."

Fakir started to turn purple. "And . . . and . . . the last letter? The one where Duck . . . said . . . she loved me?" He had trailed off into a whisper.

"Quack!" said Duck, and turned into one.

Uzura began to bang on her drum again. "Already true, zuuuura!" and she pushed Duck into the pond.

"Aie!" said Fakir, who shielded his eyes just as girl-Duck surfaced.

"But–but–but–" said Duck, crimson.

"I–I–I–" said Fakir at the same time. She stood up. "Here!" he cried, and threw his cloak at her. She hastily put it on. "Let's just – go home," he said still not looking at her and still the color of ripe tomatoes.

"Ah, ok," she said, and hastily ran over to him. He stuck out his hand, still not looking at her. She looked at him, and it, and took it.

"Stupid Femio," he muttered.

"Yeah," she said, laughing nervously. "I guess he was, uh–"

Without warning, Fakir leaned over and kissed her hastily on the forehead. "I love you too, stupid Duck," he mumbled, and kept walking. Duck covered her mouth with her hand and tried to not make any noise._ I love you too, stupid Duck, I love you too, stupid Duck,_ said Fakir's voice in her head. "Mnm," she managed to get out, and held his hand more tightly.

Uzura watched them for a few moments before she began to bang on her drum again. She walked over to Femio and yelled in his ear, "We did good. They're lovey-dovey, zuuuuuuura!"

_Insolent puppet! Insolent false prince! Insolent narrator! How could you attempt to give them a happy ending? They don't deserve happiness! They don't even deserve glory! If I still had hands that were attached to me –!_

"You're wrong," Uzura told the sky. "They do deserve happiness, zura. Just like everyone else." And she began to cry, because she knew that it was over.

And she was right.

- The End -


End file.
